"She was bred to be the perfect soldier. She doesn't blink, she doesn't think, and most importantly she doesn't hesitate. She just kills without remorse."
Her entire life, Storm had only be one thing; a mindless soldier for those around her to use f...
"I miss the air, I miss my friends I miss my mother, I miss it when life was a party to be thrown, But that was a million years ago"
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REY SAT IN A LONELY HALL OF THE factionless compound, engulfed by dirty walls and rotting floors. She was hidden by the dim lights, her back pressed into the shadows. It was far too late in the night for most people to be awake, but she heard the quiet footsteps of (hopefully) the person she was waiting for. She stood up as their figure came into view.
Her voice came out broken, half-alive, tainted by tremors and uncertainties.
"Do you have what I want?" The girl asked the shadow.
"You first."
Rey reached into her ripped satchel, revealing two loaves of nearly rotting bread. It mattered little the state of the food; at the end of the day, it was food. An item few and far between in such a place. Much like food, no one really had any money in the factionless crowd, only items to barter with for what you truly want. And right now, she needed something to distract her from the fading memories of the family she once had.
In a similar fashion the man pulled out a bottle of alcohol and two packs of cigarettes from his bag. "Aren't you a little young for this stuff?"
"Do you want the bread or not?" She snapped.
The two then traded without a word, and Rey nodded as the man slipped back into the shadows. She sighed into herself.
Time in the compound passed in thick smogs, sometimes swallowing her whole into a gust of inescapable dissociation. The drift from reality carried her through the long days. It seemed as though the outside world had faded into nothing more than a cacophony of muddled whispers, leaving vast gaps in her memory. She would be in the cafeteria then somehow wake up in her dirty cot, choking on the dust and weeping uncontrollably.
Then other times, even for the slightest second, she was struck by a moment of clarity. Those were the worst: moments where she was so consumed by her grief that it took every ounce of energy she had left to keep breathing. Grief was a knife against her throat, a boot cruelly pressed against her chest to keep her from moving forward. Everytime she thought she made progress, grief had sucked her back into its spell.
A bloody guillotine had severed the ties between her heart and head, leaving the child a hollowed doll of who she once was. She was bleeding. Bleeding from imaginary cuts, and she couldn't figure out how to heal them.
Rey didn't understand why her family had to be taken from her, why she had to wake up in the streets surrounded by the dead bodies of her loved ones.The anguish weighed so heavily on her heart that she thought it might burst. It was until that moment she failed to realize just how fragile her life was. In an instant, it was ripped away by the cruel hands of death. Almost everyone she had grown up with, whom she had learned to love with all her heart, lay on the cold sidewalk with bullets dug into their heads.
